Driving across my home state of Arizona, I was struck not only by the differences between my Sonoran Desert home and White Mountain destination, but by the subtle similarities between the two. While it might seem odd that I was able to find any commonality between these so apparently distinct places, I sensed a certain artistic kinship between the pines of the forest and the saguaro cacti of the desert. Something about the quiet dignity of the snow-laden trees and the unexpected beauty of the cacti struck me as remarkably similar and I hope my two little poems successfully communicate these images and their common themes of beauty, patience, strength, and intrigue.
‘neath sheets of white,
Slumber now silent, waiting.
Nor quite alive,
In the chill stillness, dreaming.
Or needles pine,
For these sleepers, beseeming.
As season’s night,
Softly covers, lingering.
Send now to flight,
The powdered tears, awaiting.
From which arise,
Those who will wake, come the spring.
Silhouettes raised against canvas warm
With colors of melted gold,
Brushed with glowing ember orange,
Throbbing pinks fade to dusky browns,
To final, velvet purple glow
Just where the sun dipped down.
Shadows more solid in twilight’s dark
Than blinding, blue-sky day.
Lifting their arms toward falling night,
Taller grow in sunset rite.
And at rays’ swift retreat they seem,
Content in ranks to stand until
Dawn paints the next morning.